


The Mermaid

by Radar_Girl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Celtic Mythology & Folklore, F/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology - Freeform, Romance, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 04:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17842193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radar_Girl/pseuds/Radar_Girl
Summary: Based on a myth from the Isle of Man.Sherlock meets a mermaid called Molly. She only wants two things: to be freed from the ocean and to marry him.He only has follow her simple instructions, but will he listen?





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

A very long time ago during a period of great transition when magic was still present in the very air and land, many of the old gods had been forced off the surface of the Earth by the humans.

 

The final god to remain among the mortals was the ocean god by the name of Manánnan Mac Lair. With a simple wave of his hand he could create storms so terrible that whole fleets of ships would be smashed into firewood. With a click of his fingers he could summon monstrous tidal waves to drag whole islands to the very bottom of the ocean.

 

We don't know why he was the last god standing. Maybe it was because the people depended on his good will for survival or maybe he was simply too stubborn to move on. But either way, eventually, even he who had once been so important to many, began to fade from the minds of man and they became neglectful in their worship of him. With his powers gradually fading he retired to his favourite island called Inis Falga. As time went by he also disappeared, his spirit melting into the waves and the ocean breeze, and yet he was never entirely forgotten from human consciousness. They renamed the island after him, calling it the Isle of Man and this is where our story takes place.

 

On this island there lived a poor and lonely man called William Sherlock. He was poor and lonely because he was too clever for his own good, or so the island people would say of him. He was poor because he became bored too easily to stick to any one job – weaver, carpenter, baker, fisherman...he had tried them all. And he was lonely because he was a fast learner and once he had mastered a skill would give it up never to use those skills to earn himself money except in times when he needed it the most, and so he rarely met with the other islanders.

 

The people despaired of him. He would never be useful, they said, but Sherlock did not care. He was happiest spending his time following his own interests, whether it was studying the different kinds of rocks and plants that could be found or trying out new ways of melting metal. His studies never came to much and were never put to good use, but they passed the time and made him forget his own loneliness.

 

And so over the years not only was he shunned by society, but he shunned society back, preferring to live alone, studying nature, and surviving by his own wits. This included gathering his own food. Sometimes he would go into the woods to hunt and forage for nuts and berries, other times he would go fishing.

 

One day he fancied a fish for his supper and so he took his little boat – the little boat he had made himself – and rowed it a short distance out onto the sea where the cormorants could be seen diving for their next meal.

 

Sherlock could see that there were fish all around and that the cormorants were getting their fill, but yet he found himself unable to catch any. He was being to think that he would have to abandon the idea of fish when to his shock a ben-varrey jumped into his boat. Ben-varrey is the Manx word for mermaid and this mermaid was very pretty.

 

“Moghrey mie, William Sherlock,” she greeted. “Have you not yet caught any fish?”

 

“Not yet,” Sherlock replied with a sigh. “At this rate I will be going hungry.”

 

The mermaid smiled mischievously. “I could fill your whole boat with fish,” she said, softly.

 

“And what would you have me do for you in return?” asked Sherlock, for he knew that no one did anything for nothing.

 

The mermaid tilted her head to one side, staring at him with her bright blue eyes.

 

“What can you do?” she asked.

 

“I could carve you the most wonderful set of kitchen utensils from the wood of the apple tree which grows close to my home. They will never break and will be so beautifully carved that you will be the envy of your friends.”

 

“My only friends are the seals. Besides, how do you except me to cook beneath the waves?”

 

Sherlock thought again. “I could weave you the most wonderful blanket from the wool of the best Manx sheep. You would never be cold. But again -”

 

“Again, I live in the ocean and the blanket would quickly rot. Really, William Sherlock, you are the most skilful man with the most impractical brain. How have you survived on your own all this time?”

 

Sherlock scowled. He did not like to be made a fool of. “It is not my fault that my skills are of no use to you. You know my name and you chose to leap into my boat for a reason. Why don't you stop teasing me and tell me what you want of me?”

 

The mermaid suddenly looked hesitant.

 

“There is something I want you to make for me,” she said, after a long pause.

 

“What is it? Just tell me.”

 

“Make me your wife.”

 

Sherlock blinked at the mermaid.

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“Marry me, William Sherlock, and I will give you everything that you need to be happy and successful.”

 

Sherlock thought for a moment. There was some appeal to having a wife, not being alone and someone to talk to. But then he thought some and snorted at the very idea.

 

“And what kind of marriage would it be with me living on land and you in the sea?” he demanded.

 

“You must make it so that I can live on land.”

 

“I suppose I could build you a tank and fill it with sea-water. I could even put it on wheels and move you around from room to room.”

 

“Now you're just being silly.”

 

“I'm not one who proposed to marry a human.”

 

“I know a way that I can leave the ocean. But you must trust me and follow my instructions to the very letter.”

 

“Why?”

 

The mermaid opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She tried again, eventually stammering, “Because there are only two ways that I can be freed from the sea. One is easy and the other is not.”

 

However, years of loneliness had hardened Sherlock's heart and besides which he did not know if he could trust the mermaid, so he shook his head, saying, “I have no need to marry. You must find another.”

 

The mermaid looked hurt at first, but then she pouted.

 

“Very well, but you shall get no fish from me. Farewell for now, William Sherlock,” and she dove back over the side of the boat. No matter how much Sherlock strained his eyes he could not spot the mermaid beneath the waves.

 

He threw his fishing rod back over the side of the boat and waited, but not a single fish was caught. He returned home with his stomach growling. As he sat all by himself in front of the fire he began to think again about how pleasant it would be to have someone kind to talk to. The house seemed very large and cold with only him in it. And then he began to think that maybe he had nothing to lose by getting married after all. If the mermaid had been attempting to deceive him he would soon find out and if she were being honest then he would have a wife.

 

He woke early the next morning, took his boat back out to the very same place as before and waited.

 

 

_AN: Thanks for reading._

 

 


	2. Two

 

AN: This is where things start becoming illogical. As you read you will probably thinking, “But why doesn't Sherlock just do this or that? It's obvious,” so please remember it's a myth and is based on emotion rather than logic or common sense. Enjoy!

* * *

 

**Chapter Two**

 

Sherlock did not have to wait long before the mermaid had jumped back into his boat.

 

“I've decided to accept your proposal,” he told her.

 

“I know, William Sherlock,” replied the Mermaid. “You are hungry and lonely, that is what your pride has done to you. But, never mind that now. Here is what you must do to free me: I shall give you a silver trout. This you can sell at the market for a gold sovereign. Accept nothing else for the trout. Then you must take the sovereign and toss it into the sea by the Rock of Drowning.”

 

Sherlock frowned. “I've heard of the Rock of Drowning. It's a very literal name.”

 

“Indeed, but you must trust me. Here is the fish I promised you yesterday and the trout.”

 

The Mermaid waved her hand and suddenly a whole shoal of fish threw themselves into the boat, almost capsizing it. On top of the pile was a large silver trout.

 

Sherlock rowed to shore and placed the trout into a sack. After that he headed straight to the market. As he wandered from stall to stall he began to doubt the Mermaid's instructions. Who would offer a gold sovereign for a trout?

 

As he walked past the baker's stall he heard the merry sound of a dance jig being played on a fiddle, mingled with the laughter of onlookers. It was not unusal for muscians to play at markets but the laughter made Sherlock curious and so he followed the music.

 

He pushed his way through the circle of onlookers and was surprised to see that it was no human playing the fiddle, but a cat. And it was doing so rather well. It was also not alone. As it played its jigg a mouse and a cockroach were dancing along to the music.

 

“What an amazing sight!” Sherlock exclaimed. “I've never seen anything like it before.”

 

“No one ever has,” replied a man with dark slicked-back hair. “But I've trained my animals well and they've given me many years of faithful service and earned me much money. You are fortunate to see such a sight as I plan to retire at the end of the week. What do you have in that sack?”

 

“A kazoo-playing, dead trout,” Sherlock replied, because he could be a sarcastic bas- a sarcastic so and so at times. “Why do you wish to know?”

 

The man grabbed the sack out of Sherlock's hands and peered inside. “A fine looking fish! I suggest an exchange. Your fish for my cat.”

 

Sherlock blinked. “I lied about it being able to play the kazoo.”

 

“I am aware. But the offer still stands.”

 

“But that cat is far more valuable than my fish!”

 

“Maybe so. But, as I said, I am to retire. I have all the money I want and all I desire is a good home for my cat and a delicious trout to feast upon.”

 

Sherlock thought quickly. The Mermaid had told him not to accept anything other than a gold sovereign, but she did not know about the fiddle playing cat. With such a creature he would able to earn lots of gold sovereigns for himself.

 

“I accept,” he said, eagerly.

 

* * *

 

 

After leaving the market Sherlock returned home with the cat in his sack. From his window he saw the Mermaid waiting for him upon the shore, as far as she could manage.

 

“Did you get the gold sovereign?” she asked, anxously.

 

Sherlock shook his head. “Better than that,” he said, excitedly. “Look at this!”

 

He opened up the sack and the cat leapt out, fiddle in paw, and began to play a beautiful lament. Sherlock waited for the Mermaid to praise him, but the praise never came.

 

“It is amusing,” she said once the cat had bowed. “But where is the gold sovereign that will buy my freedom?”

 

“It will come,” Sherlock promised her. “Give me another silver trout and I will not let you down.”

 

“Very well.”

 

The Mermaid waved her hand and a large silver trout leapt onto the shore, ready for Sherlock to catch it in his hands.

 

The next day Sherlock went back to the market with the trout in his sack and once again followed the sound of laughter. He could not help but chuckle as he watched the cockroach leap onto the mouse's shoulders and back flip off them again.

 

“I'm glad that you are enjoying their perfomance,” the dark-haired man said. “Without the fiddle to dance to they've had to alter their routine. How is my cat?”

 

“He only plays laments, music sad enough to make a man weep,” said Sherlock. “Why is that? When he was with you he played happy songs.”

 

The man shrugged. “He misses his companions. This we must amend. I see that you have your sack with you. Give me another trout and I will let you have the mouse and cockroach. Together they will earn you enough gold sovereigns to buy a castle!”

 

Sherlock liked the sound of this and so he handed over the trout in exhange for the mouse and the cockroach.

 

As before he found that the Mermaid was waiting for him on the beach.

 

“You do not have the gold sovereign,” she said, sternly.

 

Sherlock opened the sack and out leapt the mouse and cockroach. They jumped and flipped and span about the sand, but the Mermaid did not laugh.

 

“They can earn me lots of gold sovereigns!” Sherlock told her, happily. “I need not ever work again or go hungry. I can spend my days studying and learning about how the world works.”

 

“You?” the Mermaid, echoed. “All I needed was one single gold sovereign and then I could have been set free, free to love you and be your wife. But greed has gotten the better of you, William Sherlock! You would make a poor husband!”

 

Sherlock scowled. “I've never claimed that I would be! You're the one who wanted to marry me!”

 

“And you're the one who came back after saying no!”

 

“It's better that things have turned out this way! You would be happier remaining in the sea.

 

“How little you know. I am Molly, the lost Princess. I was turned into a mermaid by the wicked Druid known as Drogh-Yantagh. I could have returned to my human form if he was paid a gold sovereign or made to laugh. He has not laughed in seven years, so there's no hope of that. And as you seem to only want riches for yourself I must resign myself to a life beneath the waves.”

 

And with that Molly dove back into the ocean and disappeared from sight, even when Sherlock waded in after her right up to his chin.

 

He was ashamed of himself. He had been thinking of himself and not of her, but he knew what to do to make things right.

 

He struggled back to shore and headed back towards his house to prepare himself for what he must do to rescue Molly.

 

* * *

 

_AN: Hope you're enjoying the tale so far! What do you think of the man with the dark slick-back hair? In the version I read he has no name, so it's up to you to decide who he is. Thanks for reading!_

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock saves Molly.

 

 

 

Sherlock rowed out to the Rock of Drowning with the cat, mouse, and cockroach cowering in the bottom of the boat. It had been a treacherous journey and it was a fearsome place, but somehow Sherlock made it there safely and was able to anchor his boat there, stepping out onto the rock.

 

“Drogh-Yantagh, I've come to make you laugh!” Sherlock bellowed into the night. “Show your face!”

 

There was a tremendous noise like the crack of boulders being split asunder and a flash of lightening. Sherlock shielded his eyes and once the light had faded looked up to see that there was a tall, thin man with a dour expression sitting on top of the rock.

 

“I find your arrogance most offensive, little man,” the Druid said in a voice like thunder. “You dare to summon me here? Tonight you shall meet your demise and become food for the fish.”

 

“No need for such rudeness. I'm only here to make you laugh.”

 

“Laugh? I have not so much as chuckled in seven years. Many have tried to succeed in this matter and all have failed. All have I killed for their presumptuousness.”

 

“I will succeed.”

 

The Druid narrowed his eyes. “Are you a jester?”

 

“Not yet. But I'm usually good at everything I turn my hand to. I don't see why this would be any different.”

 

“If you can obtain from me three great laughs I will grant you your liberty. But if not -”

 

“You'll kill me?” Sherlock asked candidly. “How unexpected. But, I think that you'll find that I am already at liberty and that you cannot take from me, so if I do win this little game of ours I wish for you to grant liberty to one who you've been holding captive for a very long time.”

 

The Druid looked amused. “Go on.”

 

“You have to set Princess Molly free from the sea and restore her to her human form.”

 

The Druid thought for a moment and then smiled wickedly. “I accept your terms,” he agreed and snapped his fingers.

 

Molly appeared on the rock beside him. When she looked about herself and saw Sherlock facing Drogh-Yantagh her blue eyes widened.

 

“Sherlock, what are you doing?” she cried.

 

“Putting things right,” Sherlock assured her.

 

“You have a gold sovereign?” The Mermaid looked ecstatic at the thought that her freedom was within reach.

 

“No,” Sherlock admitted. “I'm going to make him laugh.”

 

“Three times,” the dour Druid added. “Or I'll kill him.”

 

Molly wrung her hands together in anger and agitation.

 

“Lugh's beard!” she exclaimed. “Just pay him a gold sovereign!”

 

“I would have accepted a gold sovereign,” the Druid said.

 

“He would have accepted a gold sovereign!”

 

“I promise you, Princess, I know what I am doing. I have done my research.”

 

“Really?” Molly pointed at the Druid. “Take a close look at his face, William Sherlock. Is that the face of a man who laughs easily, who sees humour in the world?”

 

“Please, just trust me,” Sherlock told her through gritted teeth. Then he looked at Drogh-Yantagh in the eye and said, “I'm ready to begin.”

 

The Druid nodded and Sherlock opened the sack he had with him. Out jumped the cat with its fiddle, the mouse, and the cockroach. Sherlock told them to strike up a tune.

 

The Druid had never seen such a sight before – a cat playing a fiddle and a mouse and cockroach dancing in time to the beat. So surprised was he that he could not suppress the great belly laugh that leapt up out of his mouth.

 

“That's the first laugh,” Sherlock told him smugly.

 

A look of anger passed over the Druid's face as he composed himself. However, he was still confident that he could win. After all, he only had to not laugh.

 

Then the cat changed its tune, the music flowing into something much more jolly and comical as the mouse and cockroach began to perform an acrobatic routine of jumps and spins, even leaping over the cat's head.

 

Drogh-Yantagh held onto his stomach as he laughed heartily at the sight.

 

“Laugh number two,” Sherlock declared proudly.

 

The Druid glared fiercely at him.

 

Only one more laugh was required for Molly to be set free. Sherlock and Molly both watched the Druid's face closely as the cat, mouse, and cockroach danced, jumped and span, and sang with all their hearts, trying to draw the final great laugh from the Druid.

 

But, the Druid's face was like stone. His lips did not even twitch in amusement. Not a laugh, chuckle, or even giggle could be heard from him.

 

Molly looked despairingly at Sherlock. He gave her a troubled look back.

 

But, then something unexpected happened which saved them. The mouse was attempting to pirouette, but lost her balance and knocked into the cockroach. In turn the cockroach stumbled backwards, crashing into the cat. This caused the cat to lose his balance, fall against the rock, and knock itself out when the fiddle dropped onto its head.

 

There was a silence for two seconds, then five, then ten, and then Sherlock burst out laughing, unable to contain himself.

 

The Druid's mouth twitched.

 

“Sherlock!” Molly scolded, but her mouth was smiling. She descended into a fit of giggles.

 

Their laughter was infectious. The Druid was helpless to control himself and he began to laugh so loudly that the noise could be heard right across the island.

 

“And that,” Sherlock chuckled, “is laugh number three. We win.”

 

When the Druid had finally stopped laughing he realised that he had indeed lost the game and that made him furious. But a deal was a deal. Angrily he clapped his hands together and Molly was surrounded by a bright light.

 

The light faded away and Sherlock was stunned by the sight of Molly standing on her own two legs, smiling broadly and with her brown eyes shining brightly. She held out her hands to him as she stepped gracefully down into his boat.

 

However, Drogh-Yantagh was not willing to let them go so easily. Thunder crashed all around them as a storm formed around the rock.

 

“If you hadn't tricked me with those infernal creatures...” the Druid snarled.

 

A strong blast of wind almost knocked Sherlock into the sea, but he clung to the rock and kept his wits about them.

 

“What trick?” he yelled above the wind. “Please don't blame my chicken, bat, and caterpillar for this!”

 

“What fresh deception are you attempting?” the Druid shouted. “I can clearly see that they are a cat, mouse, and cockroach!”

 

Now every Manx fisherman knows that there are some words which are forbidden to be uttered at sea and that alternative names must be used. These words are of course cat, mouse, and cockroach, and by speaking them the Druid had sealed his own fate.

 

Sherlock jumped into his boat, with the cat, mouse, and cockroach in his arms as the Rock of Drowning began to split in two beneath his feet. The split in the rock revealed a portal to the darkness of the Otherworld and into this the Druid fell.

 

After the Druid had disappeared from the sight the Rock of Drowning sealed closed again, looking as though it held no secrets.

 

With Drogh-Yantagh gone for good all of his spells were undone. With a flash of light the cat, the mouse, and the cockroach were turned back into human beings: two men and a woman. They explained that they were a trope of entertainers who had once angered the Druid and so he had transformed them into animals. They promised Sherlock eternal friendship so grateful they were to him for rescuing them.

 

After they had rowed to shore Molly took Sherlock back to her father's castle. The king was so overjoyed to see his daughter again that he straight away gave them permission to marry. The trope of entertainers provided the music for free at their wedding and Sherlock was made Chancellor. With Molly's encouragement he took his responsibilities seriously without giving them up, even when he felt bored. They were married for a long time and very happy together.

 

As for the island people they only tell this stories in hushed tones around the fireplace and when they go out to sea they avoid the Creg Y Baih at all costs, one of many portals to the Otherworld. But above all they know to never to say the words: kayt, lugh, and deyll while at sea.

 

* * *

 

AN:

Dear Guest, thanks for the reviews and for sharing that interesting saying! I read this myth in my book: The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends by Peter Berresford Ellis. However, after a bit of googling I found it briefly talked about on this blog: <https://thetalkingllama.wordpress.com/2013/11/21/celtic-myths-part-2-isle-of-man-isle-of-delights/>

 

The Ben-Varrey (The Mermaid) is the Manx version of the same tale told in Ireland, Brittany, and the Western Isles of Scotland.

 

The fisherman's name is Odo Paden, the princess is not given a name. Nor do we get to find out more about the market man who owned the cat, mouse, and cockroach. While reading the story for the first time I was sure that he was going to turn out to be the Druid, but no. He's just a mysterious figure who helps the fisherman by providing him with the means not only to save the princess but the opportunity to save the entertainment trope as well. Did he know about them? Did he know the Princess? Who knows.

 

My own analysis of this story is that it's a tale promoting the idea that love and joy are worth more than money. Odo Paden is initially reluctant to marry and is briefly caught up by greed. When he has the cat he forgets about his promise to marry the mermaid, instead eagerly telling her that he's going to be rich. However, to his credit, soon realises his mistake and makes amends.

 

He could have relied on money to free the Mermaid, but instead chooses laughter. The harder method. It's interesting that the Druid values three great laughs as being equal to one gold sovereign, but then he did come across as being lonely and bitter and I felt a little bit sorry that he was dragged into the Otherworld.

 

I'll be interested to hear what you think!

 

The Otherworld refers to the realm of the fairies and other supernatural beings. It exits parallel to our world and is often traversed by heroes on their quests.

 

The words: kayt, lugh, and deyll are the Manx words for cat, mouse, and cockroach. They are words forbidden at sea, so instead you'd refer cats to as screeberey, mice as lonnag, cockroaches as kerog. Sherlock didn't do this, but referred to them as different animals to trick the Druid.

 

Thanks for reading!

 


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